Looking Back
by Atlantis Potter
Summary: Looking back on the ten years after leaving Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione reflect on the changes in their lives. Please, R/R!
1. Prolouge

We Must Never Look Back  
  
Prolouge  
  


Author: Atlantis Potter  
Email: atlantispotter@yahoo.com  
Site:   
Summary: Looking back on the ten years after leaving Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione reflect on the changes in their lives. Please, R/R!  
  
Rating: R  
Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
There was something about the man walking down the street that made passers-by stop and stare. This something about him; it radiated from his very skin. He was tall, just over six feet, with a lean frame, muscular and defined. His startling green eyes pierced through the onlooker and his hair flopped just right on his head, creating a clean, yet slightly wild look. He made men cower, yet respect him and women melted at the sexuality that seeped from him, causing hearts to flutter and heat to rise.   
  
The scar on his forehead was light now, and barely noticeable, thanks to the fall of his ebony hair. He preferred it that way. He ran a hand through his dishevelled cut as he walked through the golden, circular doors of Snitch! Enterprises. The security guard at the entrance nodded, keeping his head slightly bowed as Harry Potter strode past. A receptionist smiled meekly at him and melted as he grinned back.   
  
"Morning Persephone."   
  
"Good morning, Mr. Potter."   
  
He walked briskly to the bank of elevators, all plated in gold. Whipping a small card attached to a lanyard from his coat pocket, he swiped it once and the doors of the farthest elevator opened. He went to them and stepped inside, leaning against the far wall as the door closed behind him.   
  
He'd built Snitch! on his own back, starting with the funds left by his parents and placing them in some sound investments. The technological side was controlled by one Draco Malfoy, whom Harry despised with a passion that had not waned since that day in Diagon Alley when he was just eleven years old. However, the man knew his technology and Harry knew that he was a good investor, though a risk taker. They had managed to set aside their animosity to create a strong empire, composed of hundreds of businesses, both in the wizarding and muggle worlds.   
  
The doors opened, pulling him from his thoughts. He was immediately accosted by Parvati Patil, his secretary for nearly six years. "Harry, you have a meeting with the Board of Directors in ten minutes. There are three messages on your desk, one from Hermione Granger, one from Sirius and one from your Aunt Petunia."   
  
"Anything else?" he asked, flipping through a file that she handed him.   
  
"You're having lunch with the Minister of Magic and, erm..."   
  
"What?"   
  
"She's in there."   
  
He didn't try to hide his groan, but forged ahead into his office. He did try to hide his sharp intake of air upon seeing those long legs ending in delicate feet, clad in a sexy pair of red stilettos that weren't for day wear. He trailed up the legs until they disappeared under the hem of a black, swishy dress. Shapely hips, slender stomach, firm breasts and vibrant flame coloured hair. Oh, how he loved to hate her.   
  
"Virginia."   
  
"Oh, Harry, stop all that nonsense."   
  
"Why are you here?"   
  
"What? I'm not allowed to pay my husband a visit?"   
  
"Ex husband, and no, you're not. I have work to do, and you like to waste my time."   
  
"Oh, bother, you're not any fun. What happened to the man I married? You used to be a great lover. Walks in the park, weekends away, trips to New York City, Paris, Rome, and all that great sex. What happened to you?"   
  
"Someone had to pay for it all. So, I grew up, speaking of which, are you planning on doing that anytime soon?"   
  
"What fun would that be?"   
  
"Gee, I really don't know, Ginny. Why are you here again?"   
  
"I have a favour to ask of you."   
  
"No, I'm not interested."   
  
"But, Harry..." she said, sticking out her lower lip.   
  
"No, Virginia. I won't do it, whatever it is."   
  
"Hermione called me today."   
  
She'd struck gold and she knew it. He turned his head towards her. "And?"   
  
"She wants us to come for dinner at the Burrow next week."   
  
"Us?"   
  
"Yes, you and me."   
  
"Ah, forget to mention that we're divorced?"   
  
"We're separated. Besides, there's always a chance of reconciliation." She flashed him her sexiest smile and moved closer to him, gently placing her hands on his shoulders.   
  
He shrugged, taking her hands in his own and pulling them from his shoulders, before dropping them away from him. "Not on your life, kiddo," he took a breath, weighing his options, "Alright, I'll do it."   
  
"Great, see you at eight, Wednesday night."   
  
"Right."   
  
"Later, love!" she said with a flourish as she hurried from his office, sashaying her hips as she went.   
  
"Parvati!"   
  
"What?" came a soft voice.   
  
"Cancel all my appointments."   
  


***

  
  
She was floating on a softly rocking hammock. The sky was a beautiful sapphire blue and there wasn't a cloud in sight. The white, warm sand stretched towards the turquoise water, and they met in a soft collision of earth and water. She breathed the heavenly sea air and felt strong, tan arms tighten around her waste. "Hermione..."   
  
"Hmmm?"   
  
"Hermione."   
  
"Yes..."   
  
"Hermione! Wake up!"   
  
She sat up startled and looked into blue eyes, much duller than the sky from her dream. Her gaze widened to include the freckled face and the red hair of Ron Weasley, her boyfriend. Yes, her boyfriend, there was no way she'd ever marry him, not when her heart was elsewhere. Her brain and body were here, in his bed, in his arms, but her heart and soul wandered, linked to another's by some inexplicable, unbreakable bond.   
  
"You have to get up and go down to help mum."   
  
"Oh, right, the dinner."   
  
"Yes, the dinner. It's three o'clock in the afternoon. Are you feeling okay?"   
  
"I'm fine; I'll be done in twenty minutes, a half hour at the most."   
  
"Ok, I'll see you downstairs." He kissed her lightly on the lips and sauntered from the room.   
  
She got out of the large bed that they had squeezed into the room. Even after she'd taken down all the Chudley Cannons paraphernalia and expanded the room with some nifty little spells, they'd had to cram all her books, her heavy desk, and the large bed into the space. A soft, squishy chair completed the room and Hermione felt distinctly suffocated as she looked at it. How had this become her life? She was a doctor, for Merlin's sake! Why was she living with her boyfriend and his parents?_ Because you love him of course, and he wouldn't let you pay for a house._   
  
That's right. Ron "The Man" Weasley had refused to allow her to purchase a home for them and had insisted she move in with him--with them. Never in a million years did she think the Burrow would be home.   
  


***

  
  
The mulled mead couldn't flow fast enough for Harry's tastes. Ginny kept snaking her arm through his and Hermione was sulking a corner, looking stunning in her gloom. The stormy weather matched his conflicted emotions. He was angry at being coerced here by Ginny, who definitely had ulterior motives, he was thrilled to see the Weasleys, because even though he despised their only daughter, he adored the family, and he was reluctant, yet secretly very content to be in the same room as Hermione. She hadn't said two words to him the entire night, and by the looks of things, didn't plan on it either.   
  
"Ahem! Excuse me! Everyone settle down! Please!" called Molly Weasley, from her spot near the head of the table, where Arthur was stationed. "Ginny has an announcement."   
  
Luckily, she was seated with her parents and Harry had forgone her charms for most of the actual sit down dinner. She cleared her throat and looked around, making sure she had everyone's attention.   
  
"I have some very exciting news. Today, I visited my doctor and found out the best thing that has ever happened to me-- to us. Harry and I are going to have a baby."   
  
Cheers erupted as Harry's jaw hit the floor. Catching himself, he stood up abruptly, knocking over his goblet.   
  
"Ginny, how can you be pregnant?"   
  
Silence followed his shouted question. She looked at him, her smile only wavering slightly.   
  
"Harry, I should hardly have to explain that to you, of all people."   
  
He didn't take her bait. "No, really. You haven't slept in my bed in six months. In fact, you haven't been in my house in five months. How can we be having a baby when we're divorcing?"   
  
It was Arthur's turn to stand up. "Now see here!"   
  
"No! You see here... she's lying to you. We're getting a divorce, she's not pregnant, at least not with my child, but you may want to consult Malfoy on that one and I most certainly will not sit down, Molly," he addressed her, already having seen the words forming in her mouth.   
  
A crash of thunder sounded outside and the lights in the house flickered, before going out completely.   
  
"_Lumos._" Hermione's wand flared up and she looked around the room. Molly was now standing, having turned her glare towards Arthur.   
  
"We'll get Muggle electricity! Time to move into the new world! He says..." she trailed off her mocking tone and began shaking her head in disgust.   
  
"Molly, have you any candles?" asked Harry, having calmed himself slightly.   
  
"They're all down in the cellar. I'll summon them."   
  
"No, if you don't mind, I'll walk down and get them," he offered, already walking towards the cellar door.   
  
"Harry, wait, you'll never find them. I'll go with you." It was the first time Hermione had addressed him all night.   
  
He nodded and turned to continue his journey down the dark stairs, his wand out and illuminated.   
  
She followed closely behind as they walked down the dark, deep, damp stairs. After a few slippery steps, he felt her hand grasp onto the back of his shirt and he reached back to hold her hand. They reached the bottom of the steps without any serious injuries or falls. Hermione pointed towards a door and Harry led them through it. His wand illuminated a small storage closet, brimming with knick-knacks and other forgotten treasures. They searched the shelves, eventually stumbling upon candles.   
  
"Here we are. I guess we can go back up then."   
  
"Harry, there's a reason I wanted to come down here."   
  
He looked at her full in the face, as he hadn't done in years. The stark sadness mixed with raw passion to create a look of deep yearning her eyes that caused his heart to skip. "What is it?"   
  
She bowed her head and took a step back from him, as he had drawn closer to her in the mere milliseconds it took for him to respond. As she stepped back, she tripped on a box that was behind her and fell backwards into the door. The slam echoed in the tiny room. Whatever she had been meaning to say was forgotten as Harry rushed to her.   
  
"Are you ok?"   
  
"Yes, just help me up."   
  
He did so and as soon as she was on her feet she rushed towards the now shut door. Tugging on the handle, she let on an exasperated sigh. "We're locked in!"   
  
"Of course we're not locked in. Are you or are you not a witch?"   
  
"Yes, I'm a bloody witch, but a witch without her wand!"   
  
"Then we can apparate out."   
  
She considered this for a moment. "Actually, we can't. The Burrow still has the anti-Apparition charms on it from the war."   
  
"You've got to be joking. Maybe we should call for help."   
  
"Can't we just talk? This is the longest I've been around you in over eight years."   
  
He winced; he was the last person to forget their past. "Alright, what did you want to say?"   
  
She opened her mouth and paused, taking a deep breath before beginning. "Why are you divorcing her?"   
  
"It's the red hair."   
  
"No, really, why are you divorcing her?"   
  
"I guess for a million reasons. She's difficult to live with, spends all of my money, cheats on me, and is a downright miserable human being. And besides, I've really never been a fan of red hair; I guess I've always preferred brunettes."   
  
The meanings of his words were not missed and she turned her face to meet his gaze. There was a heat smouldering in those emerald eyes that she had not forgotten. He looked at her, searching her face for some clue as to why they were having this conversation.   
  
His eyes roamed her heart shaped face, taking in her lips. They weren't pouty like Ginny's, but they were full and sumptuous. Her eyes were brown, but not typically so. They were a deep, rich brown, highlighted by tiny flecks of gold and green. He had missed gazing into those eyes; something in them held him and captivated him.   
  
He reached up and tucked a piece of her wavy brown hair behind her ear, allowing his fingers to linger in the soft, silky tresses. He trailed his fingers down her face to lightly grasp her chin. Pulling her towards him, he whispered, "Do you know how much I've missed you?"   
  
She allowed him to kiss her, once. She drank in the long withheld taste of him, his sweetness reviving something she thought was long lost.   
  
"Harry, we can't do this. Ron-"   
  
"Why did you ever run to Ron?"   
  
"You'd left! Disappeared to parts unknown and you made it perfectly clear that you didn't want to be with me anymore. Then you come back nearly two years later, holding in your arms none other than Miss Virginia Weasley, or rather Mrs. Virginia Potter."   
  
"You refused to marry me Hermione! What did you expect?"   
  
"Certainly not that you'd run to the arms of my best friend!"   
  
"You went to Ron!"   
  
"You'd leave me eighteen months prior to when I turned to Ron. And he never knew!"   
  
"You never told Ron about us?"   
  
"There was never any reason to."   
  
"How did he not know? We carried on for nearly two years."   
  
"I don't know. It's not like we ever told anyone. No one knew, and no one knows now."   
  
"Hermione..." he trailed off, yearning to ask her the question that had been on his mind when she had turned him down eight years ago.   
  
"Yes, Harry?" she said, barely audible.   
  
"Do you still love me?"   
  
The instances turned into moments, which turned into seconds. After a few minutes, Harry thought he was gong to die of anticipation.   
  
"I never stopped."   
  
He found he was still holding her hand and gave it a light squeeze. She squeezed back. Faster than you could say 'Quidditch', they had flung themselves into one another's arms and were kissing with eight years worth of pent up anger, love and passion. Every kiss betrayed the hurt the other had caused. Every kiss was punctuated with feelings of love that they had found nowhere else.   
  
"Harry... I-"   
  
"Yes, love?"   
  
"I lied."   
  
He stopped in the middle of nibbling her ear and gently released the back of her bra, which he had just begun to unfasten. "About what?"   
  
"There are no apparition charms. I just said that so that you would stay. And besides, the door isn't really locked."   
  
He laughed, "You could have just said you wanted to talk."   
  
"But it seemed so much sexier this way."   
  
"Right then. Where to? I can take you anywhere in the world."   
  
"I want to go to the Caymans again."   
  
"Do you remember that place on the beach where we first..."   
  
"I couldn't ever forget it."   
  
"Meet me there."   
  
She kissed him soundly on the lips before taking his hands in hers. Together, they apparated to the grove of palm trees that they had discovered on their first trip together. It was a tucked away behind an outcropping of rocks. The old hammock was still there, just as it had been that day. It was older now and looked more worn, but Hermione took deep breaths of the salty sea air and felt as if not a day had passed.   
  
The hurt melted away as her feet touched the warm sand and the anger passed as the waves crashed in the distance. As the moon rose in the night sky, so did her long hidden love. As they met on the sands of their old passion, she felt his strong arms around her, resurfacing long forgotten memories. Oh yes, she remembered his touch, but memory could do it no justice.   
  
Their lips met, with less violence and crushing before, but, if possible, more passion. His kisses lingered longer and he seemed less urgent.   
  
She traced her fingers down his back, loving the tiny, pleasurable sensations from his fingertips that were slowly making their way around her body. She sighed against him. There was something about Harry, something that was home.   
  
He loved to kiss her. There was nothing that Harry had ever known that was like her kisses. They were soft and yielding, meeting his for every degree of passion. He groaned against her sweet lips as she untucked his white shirt and began slowly unbuttoning it. There was something agonizing about the speed with which she was undressing him and he felt his hands moving to unzip her dress just as quickly.   
  
Within minutes their clothes were separated from their bodies. He had greatly missed the feeling of her flesh. His hands roamed her body, absorbing the sexy curves of her body. Ginny had been long and slender, but Hermione enjoyed all the womanly curves that Harry so deeply desired. The shape and feeling of her body seared every nerve in his body. For the first time in eight years, Harry was alive.   
  


***

When it was over, they lay together in the now cool sand. Hermione sighed against his muscular chest.   
  
"Do you think we ought to go back?"   
  
He was silent for several moments before he sat up and pulled her close to him. "No, Hermione, I think we need to do anything but go back. There is no going back, we can only go forward, my love, and we must never look back."   
  



	2. You and Me and the Moon

Looking Back: Chapter Number  
  
Chapter Title

  
  
Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  


* * *

_When I look in your eyes I go soft inside And the sound of your voice sends Shivers up my spine And at the slightest touch we're in love You and me and the moon _  
--You and Me and the Moon, _Magnetic Fields_   
  
  
Hermione wrung her hands nervously. The train was to be leaving Hogwarts in twenty minutes, yet just as she had been preparing to head down to the station, a large tawny owl had swooped in through her window. The parchment it bore contained a note asking for her presence in Headmaster Dumbledore's office. Of course she had obliged. Despite the look of excitement that she wore for her fellow classmates, Hermione was more nervous than she had ever known. What awaited her in the world? Where would she go from here? Her immediate future called for her to return home to her parents, where she would spend a summer enjoying her last days as a young adult. In autumn, she would be starting a student teaching job at a small wizarding school in America. She had never been to America and it was a symbol of everything terrifying and unsure in her future.  
  
The big cities, the outgoing people, the unreserved attitudes and the sun kissed faces of all those Americans scared her even more than she was willing to admit to Harry and Ron. The letter to meet Professor Dumbledore one last time was something that greatly appealed to her. She hoped it would bring her a sense of closure and less nervous feelings about what was coming: life. And so, she stood wringing her hands by the stone gargoyle, waiting for the door in the brick wall to open.  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
She turned at the sound of an all too familiar voice and immediately, a grin brightened her features as her tall, good looking friend drew nearer. "Harry! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be heading down to Hogsmeade?"  
  
"I should be asking you the same question. I got a letter from Dumbledore asking me to meet him before I left."  
  
"So did I. Any idea what this could be about?"  
  
"I haven't a clue. Hope it's nothing horrible. Perhaps we won't be leaving after all, maybe we both failed our NEWTs and they're sending us back to first year."  
  
The looked that marred her features cause him to burst out laughing. "Hermione, I'm only joking. I'm sure it's nothing horrible. Calm down."  
  
She relaxed and smiled, "Of course, I knew you were joking. Harry, what do you take me for?"  
  
"I just don't know what to make of you Ms. Granger, never have." He grinned at her, the grin reaching his emerald eyes. She was going to miss him horribly this summer.  
  
At that moment, the Gargoyle sprang back and they both settled down considerably. Harry's grin fell to a nervous smile and Hermione's look settled into one of supreme nervousness. When the panel had completely moved, Harry turned to face her and gave her an encouraging smile before they both stepped onto the revolving staircase. Hermione felt Harry jump slightly as the stone panel slammed shut behind them and she reached for his hand, squeezing it as the door opened in front of them.  
  
Dumbledore met them with a kind smile and twinkling eyes that immediately set them both at ease. "Good afternoon, I'm sorry this meeting is running so close to your departure, but I'm afraid I just recently received the news I wanted to speak to you both about."  
  
"That's alright, it's really no trouble," Hermione answered him, allowing her shoulders to relax as she settled into the idea that whatever this was about, it most certainly was not bad.  
  
"I have a rather exciting proposition for the two of you. There have been a great many complaints from parents. It seems that the children are getting a little restless not being able to practice their magic during the school year. The Ministry has its hands full with other things, so naturally the parents feel rather put upon. It seems that the Ministry has just begun issuing fines for underage use of magic, rather than investigating. I myself received a great number of Howlers regarding the issue."  
  
"Sir, I thought the Ministry alone was in charge of underage magic?" Harry pointed out.  
  
"Yes, but I'm the Headmaster of their school. I went to Professor McGonagall with a suggestion and, lucky for me, she agreed to it. I've decided that it might be exciting to hold a sort of summer retreat here on the school grounds. It would be open to all Hogwarts students under the age of fifteen. What do you think?"  
  
Hermione admitted that it was a great idea. During the summer before their fifth year, the age for using magic had been lowered to fifteen and she remembered how the underage children that were in Diagon Alley that summer had seemed rather put out at the idea that they still weren't allowed to do magic. "Professor Dumbledore, it sounds like a wonderful idea, ingenious really, but, if I may ask, what does this have to do with Harry and me?" she asked politely.  
  
"I was just getting to that, my dear. My plan has been approved by the Board of Governors only just this morning. In two weeks, these halls will once again be filled with students. Of course, we need staff, as the regular school teaching staff won't necessarily be staying. I'm planning on having many courses open for students and various other activities. Quidditch, field trips, maybe even some Muggle related activities. Frankly, I think you two would be wonderful counsellors."  
  
Harry shook his head a bit, as if attempting to process what Dumbledore had just said.  
  
Hermione was having no difficulty processing Dumbledore's words. Her mind was running a million miles an hour. The idea of something to do this summer, plus the added bonus of experience was causing her mind to reel with ideas and planning. Before Harry could even open his mouth to respond, she jumped at the chance.  
  
"I'll do it!"  
  
"Wonderful, and you Harry?"  
  
"Of course, I'll do it. When do we start?"  
  
As Dumbledore launched into an explanation regarding their plans for this summer, Hermione snuck a peek at her wristwatch and was not surprised to see that they had missed their train.  
  
"I'd really prefer that you stay here to help prepare for the retreat. As it stands, we'd need you back here in one week's time, but it would be wonderful if you could stay on now."  
  
"I'll stay; I need to go home for a bit, just to get a few things in order. Maybe just two or three days," Hermione spoke up.  
  
"As I expected you might. What about you Harry?"  
  
"No, sir. I'm completely out of the Dursleys'. I was going to be staying at the Burrow this summer anyway."  
  
"Very well. You may stay here if you like."  
  
"Harry! Why don't you come with me to my house for a few days? It would give you a chance to meet my mum and dad."  
  
"Oh, erm, alright. I can do that." Harry looked slightly apprehensive at this proposition.  
  
"Right. Well, I'll arrange for you to get back to Hermione's home. I believe if you go down to the kitchens, the House Elves might be able to prepare something for tea."  
  
They nodded and stood up, as Dumbledore had. He shook each of their hands, promising to come find them in the kitchens. He walked with them to the gargoyle statue and turned the opposite direction down the hallway. As soon as he was out of earshot, Hermione turned on Harry.  
  
"How exciting! Think of how much fun we'll have this summer!"  
  
"It's a shame that Ron can't be here as well."  
  
"Yes, but he couldn't very well pass up working with Bill in Egypt. What a great opportunity, maybe he'll get a job at Gringott's' after all."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
They had reached the kitchens. Hermione tickled the pear and the portrait opened to allow them access.  
  
"Harry Potter! Hermione Granger! Did you come to say goodbye to Dobby?"  
  
"Erm, actually, Dobby, we're going to be staying for the summer retreat."  
  
"Dobby is much excited to hear about this Harry Potter."  
  
"Dumbledore sent us down here; he said that you might get us something for tea."  
  
The other house elves had already begun bringing them their tea. They were hurried to a table by the fireplace and given tea, sandwiches and cookies. As they ate, various house elves that they had met during their long years at Hogwarts came to them and wish them farewell. As more and more of the magical creatures came to speak to them, Hermione felt her eyes beginning to water.  
  
"Hermione, are you all right?"  
  
She sniffed and nodded. "It's just so sad. We've been here for so long and we won't be coming back. I mean, sure, we'll be here for this summer, but then what? I'll go off to America and you'll be-Harry, what are you doing?"  
  
He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "I'm, er, going to be doing some work for Dumbledore."  
  
When he wouldn't elaborate, Hermione smartly let the subject drop. After a few minutes of awkward silence, they heard the portrait open and Dumbledore strode to them.  
  
"Well, I've arranged for you to get back to Hermione's house. If you'll both follow me…."  
  
They followed Dumbledore out onto the front lawn at Hogwarts.  
  
It seemed befitting that on this grand occasion, the sun would choose to shine over the often bleak Scottish lands which Hogwarts inhabited. Hermione at his side, Harry looked across the Hogwarts lawn, privately daydreaming about the retreat which the summer would bring.  
  
"The end of an era indeed," came a voice from behind the two of them, startling them from their momentary reveries. Harry and Hermione turned round to see the smiling face of Professor Dumbledore, holding a huge golden key in his right hand. Harry shook himself slightly. Dumbledore was looking at them, a smile of amusement on his face. Judging from their positions, Harry saw that Dumbledore must have stopped and he and Hermione had walked right past him. Harry felt the blood rising in his cheeks and a quick glance at Hermione saw that she had realized the same thing. Dumbledore grinned again. "All that remains," Dumbledore continued, "is to see that the two of you get home safely. If you'll both follow me," he said, beckoning towards a portion of exterior castle wall. He noted Harry and Hermione's puzzled looks and tapped a succession of bricks in the wall, much the same as the entrance to Diagon Alley. However, the bricks didn't open the same. Instead, they morphed into a plain wooden door. Dumbledore grasped the handle and opened the door slowly. The two followed the headmaster into a room that seemed as if it must be just off the Entrance Hall. It still amazed Harry that even after 7 years at Hogwarts, there were rooms that he didn't even know the existence of, let alone have spent time in. This particular room was furnished lightly, with the obvious purpose lying in a rather large chamber in the middle of the room. At the front of the chamber stood an odd looking table adorned with three large multi-coloured buttons.  
  
"Professor," Hermione gasped, obviously in awe of the contraption. "What is this thing?"  
  
"This," he said, pointing at the chamber, "is the Order's latest invention. The apparition chamber."  
  
"So this is how we're getting home?" asked Harry, amazed. The thing looked as if it belonged on some sort of Muggle science fiction program.  
  
"Indeed," replied the headmaster.  
  
"B-But Professor," Hermione sputtered. "You can't apparate inside Hogwarts. It says so in Hogwarts: a History. We'll get ourselves splinched!"  
  
Dumbledore seemed to consider that for a second, before elaborating.  
  
"Miss Granger, the apparition chamber projects a limited energy field designed to cut through the wards which stop apparition in Hogwarts."  
  
"So it stops us from getting splinched?" Harry asked quickly.  
  
"Precisely," said the Headmaster. Hermione's relief was obvious. "Now, if you'll both enter the chamber," he said, waving them forward.  
  
Harry and Hermione tentatively stepped forward into the apparition chamber at Professor Dumbledore's instruction. Harry glanced nervously towards Hermione. Their eyes met for a second, long enough to tell that Hermione was completely at ease. Knowing that Hermione trusted that this contraption was safe was enough to put Harry's fears to rest.  
  
He put his hand out and she took it before they stepped into the area designated by an odd beam of light. There was an odd whirring noise and Harry felt as if every cell in his body was disintegrating. His vision blurred to blackness and his mind began to spin. Suddenly, it stopped and he found himself standing on a patch of lawn outside a detached home in a very cosy, picturesque suburb.   
  
"Welcome home," Hermione said softly, smiling up at him as she held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.   
  
Hermione peeked at Harry as he stood on the path leading to her front door, watching as he surveyed her neighbourhood. This wasn't the first time Harry would meet her parents, but it was the first time he'd visited her house and she was nervous to hear what his impression would be.   
  
"Shall we go in? I'm sure my parents haven't left for London yet."   
  
"Where are we Hermione?"   
  
"Cobham."   
  
"Which is where?"   
  
"Surrey, not too far from London."   
  
He seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding. "Hard to believe we grew up so close."   
  
Hermione nodded and took his hand, leading him into the house. They walked through a foyer and into a large, bright kitchen which overlooked Hermione's back garden. A blonde woman was seated at the table that Harry recognised from trips to Diagon Alley and arrivals and departures from Kings' Cross. She was pouring over some large volume, looking very much like her daughter.   
  
"Mum?"   
  
The woman jumped and looked up, startled. "Oh, Hermione," she breathed, holding a hand to her chest, "what are you doing home?"   
  
Hermione grinned and plopped into one of the chairs across from her mother, motioning for Harry to do the same. "Dumbledore has asked Harry and I to assist him this summer at a retreat he's holding for underage witches and wizards."   
  
"Oh, that should be fun. You'll have to tell your father about it when he gets home."   
  
"Where is dad?" Hermione asked, just realising that her father wasn't around.   
  
"Mrs. James called this morning. Apparently, Parker broke his tooth playing footy with some of the other neighbourhood children."   
  
Hermione shook her head. "He's always hurting himself somehow. Remember when he broke his nose wrestling?"   
  
Ruth Granger shook her head. "Boys," she said, smiling as she winked at Harry. "So, how was your last few days at Hogwarts, Harry? Are you going to miss it?"   
  
Harry nodded. "It's been my home for the past seven years. It'll be strange not going back after this summer."   
  
Mrs Granger nodded. "How were exams?"   
  
Hermione shifted uneasily. "We were excused from exams this year. Didn't Professor Dumbledore write you?"   
  
"I did receive a letter from him about two days ago, but I assumed it was your exam results and planned on opening it when you arrived home."   
  
Hermione shook her head. "You should have read it." Her face was drawn down and her eyes downcast.  
  
"What's the matter? Did something happen?"   
  
Harry cleared his throat before shifting his gaze towards the table. "Dumbledore excused Hermione, Ron and me from exams because we weren't at the school while they were occurring."   
  
"You weren't at the school?" Mrs Granger's eyebrows knit in confusion.   
  
Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore's letter probably explains it better than I can. I'm still not sure what happened. We., um, well, we disappeared the night before exams began."   
  
Hermione's mum's eyes grew wide. "You disappeared?!"   
  
Hermione looked at her mother. "Voldemort, mum. He kidnapped us, I don't even know to where. And he…" Hermione's voice caught in her throat as tears began to leak slowly down her face. "Just, read the letter mum."   
  
Ruth Granger stood and walked to wear her daughter was sitting. "My Hermione," she said softly, as she pulled her into a tight hug. "It's alright to cry, love. Go on."   
  
Harry was torn between heartbreak at Hermione's tears and envy at Hermione having a mother that loved her so much. Voldemort had used that in their final meeting. His mind flashed back to their final duel.   
  
_ Voldemort was standing on the edge of a black, rocky cliff. A sky, crossed with violent shades of red and black, broken occasionally by sharp bolts of lightning created a formidable black drop behind him. His eyes were wild red, his wand trained on Harry's throat, he was lying at his feet. Blood was seeping down his forehead and into his eye, making it impossible to see. As evil overlords are wont to do, Voldemort held him there, talking of all his past regrets and what the future would hold now that Harry would be dead.   
  
"You'll be gone, Potter, just like you should have been nearly 17 years ago. Your foolish mother isn't here to save you now. There will be no more silly incantations or ghosts of her spirits. There is no love to protect you. No love of a mother or even of a friend, Harry. Your friends are dead, Harry. What can they do for you now?"   
  
Harry had begun to tremble violently as Voldemort spoke to him. The scene replayed over and over. Voldemort had pointed his wand at Hermione and Ron. No words had been spoken, but the green flash from his wand had told Harry that the end was near. They had fallen, silently and without ceremony. At the same moment, as Harry knew they should. Together. His heart wrenched at the thought. Ron had loved Hermione since their fifth year and he always had an inkling that Hermione felt the same. His heart wrenched and he closed his eyes, waiting for the same fate.   
  
"It's not true," a soft voice was barely heard over the whipping winds. "It isn't."   
  
Harry opened his eyes, shocked to see that the wand that had been trained on his just moments before had been moved. Voldemort had turned his back away from Harry to face the speaker of those words. Harry stood, his legs shaking. He slid his wand from his sleeve. The wood felt strange in his finger tips. It was smoother than that of his regular wand. But that wasn't what felt odd. It was the power coursing through it and into his fingertips that startled him. Dumbledore had given the wand to him, saying that should they ever face Voldemort, this would be his only hope.   
  
The site that met his eyes when he wiped the blood away nearly caused him to drop his wand. Hermione was standing, wand pointed at Voldemort's head. Her hair was wild and there was blood on her face, but she looked angry and determined.   
  
"Filthy mudblood. How-"   
  
"Even the most powerful curses can fail when you don't say the words. It may be about the intent of the curse, but something as powerful as Avada Kedavra can be near meaningless when you don't say the incantation."   
  
"I've killed countless others. The same way."   
  
"But there is love here. Love that even you cannot kill." She nodded to Harry. Their gazes locked and together, they spoke.   
  
_"Avada Kedavra!"   
  
_ There was no green light to signify that the spell had worked, but Voldemort's blood curdling scream tore through the air, ringing in Harry's ears even over the howling wind. The wizard collapsed, his eyes rolling back as he sunk to the ground and the scream dying on his cracked, black lips.   
  
Harry dropped the wand, which was scalding his fingertips. He fell to his knees, weeping as Hermione moved towards him, her limp visible. She fell down to his level and looked at him, taking his hand in her hands.   
  
"Harry?" she whispered.   
  
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. She laid her head on his shoulder, weeping now with him. After a few minutes, they heard a soft moan and both turned, terrified that Voldemort may not really be dead. Ron was now standing, rubbing his temple gingerly. Hermione let out a sob as he moved towards them, also dropping to his knees. She wrapped an arm around him as well, and together they all cried, the stresses and horrors of the past seven years finally bubbling over as the final chapter drew to a close.__  
  
He was shaking, she could tell as she watched. She longed to crawl into his lap and hold him as they both cried together. Her eyes were blurry with tears and the events of that night replayed in her mind over and over. They had nearly died. As the spell had hit her, she saw her entire life flash before her eyes. Learning to read. Her fifth birthday party. Her first day of primary school. Her best friends growing up. The train to Hogwarts. Two young boys, one with a smudged nose and the other with broken glasses that couldn't hide the frightened look in the emerald eyes behind them. A troll. A hand mirror. A flight on the back of a hippogriff. Hours of research in the library. The toast. Walks around the lake. A kiss on the cheek. After fourth year, nearly every event that came to her in what she felt would be her final moments involved him. And in what she thought would be her dying breath, she knew it. She loved him.   
  
When they had returned to Hogwarts, they were treated as heroes. The famous trio and their defeat of Voldemort. She had wanted nothing more at that very moment, when they had first walked through the gates of Hogwarts, then to tell him that she loved him. Her logic has stopped her. There was no way he could feel the same. There was no way it could ever happen.   
  
Her mother was sitting next to her, reading the letter from Dumbledore. Hermione's gaze volleyed between Harry and her mum, whose eyes were slowly spilling tears onto the parchment. She finished the letter, dropping it onto the table and burying her head in her hands. They both watched her, waiting for another reaction. A long moment passed, before she lifted her head, wiping at her cheeks with her fingertips.  
  
"Don't just sit there. Come here, both of you."   
  
Harry and Hermione both stood and as soon as they were close enough, Ruth Granger pulled them into a tight hug. "You're both so very brave. I could never do something like that now, let alone when I was seventeen. Your wizarding world is very lucky to have you both."   
  
A door shut loudly and they all looked up. Harry's heart skipped as Tim Granger strode into the kitchen. For some reason, he was suddenly very nervous to speak with Hermione's father.   
  
"Parker was a bloody mess. Pun intended," he said lightly as he removed his shoes. "Hullo, Harry, how've you been?" he asked, smiling. He looked closer at the assembled group before realising that something was wrong. "What happened?"   
  
Ruth silently slid the letter across the tabletop. He walked to the table and picked up the parchment. Harry watched his facial expressions. First, curiosity, then marked confusion, which was followed quickly by sadness before being overtaken by fear, and finally, there was just plain shock.  
  
"Hermione? My Hermione? You saved the world?"   
  
Hermione choked out a laugh through her tears. "No, daddy, I didn't save the world. I just…helped my best friend when he needed me."   
  
Tim smiled at her, his face beaming with pride. "We should celebrate, somehow. What's that stuff you drink?"   
  
"Butterbeer?" Hermione offered.   
  
"Yes, yes! Let's go into London! We'll go to Diagonal Alley!"   
  
Hermione looked at her dad, slight confusion marring her features. Normally, her dad was very reserved about magic, but he seemed downright excited at the idea of going to London. "You mean Diagon Alley?"   
  
"Oh, right."   
  
"I'm not so sure you'll be allowed--"   
  
"It should be alright, Hermione. They've been their countless times," Harry said, smiling at her.   
  
"I suppose you're right."   
  
"Excellent! You two be ready by four, we'll leave then." Tim Granger looked like a child in a candy store, the way he was rubbing his hands together excitedly and grinning at his wife.   
  
"Right then. If you don't mind, I'm going to show Harry around a bit," Hermione said, eyeing her father with an eyebrow raised.   
  
Hermione's parents nodded as the two teenagers stood from the table. Harry picked up the backpack containing his things and followed Hermione back to the front hallway. She led him up a tall staircase and down a long hallway.   
  
"You can stay in this room," she said as she opened a door to her left. "My room is right across the hall and the loo is down the hall."   
  
Harry nodded and followed her into her room after setting down his backpack. She opened a door and moved to sit on a large bed, covered with a purple duvet.   
  
"I'm a bit sad I won't be home this summer before moving. I'm glad to be coming back here the week before I leave though. I have so much to do!"   
  
"Will you miss England?"   
  
"Of course. I hope to come back here. Maybe I'll even get to teach at Hogwarts some day," she grinned as she laid back against her pillows. She patted the bed next to her and Harry awkwardly sat down.   
  
"What are you going to do?"   
  
"Just the work for Dumbledore. I've been talking with Sirius as well. He says that when I turn 18, I'll be inheriting more from my parents and he wants to work on investing some of it."   
  
"What's the work for Dumbledore?"   
  
"Hermione. You know--"   
  
She smiled at him. "It's me. What is it?"   
  
He moved closer to her. "I know it's you. But I still can't tell you."   
  
She feigned a pout. "Why not?"   
  
"Don't give me that face. Lavender used to give me that face."   
  
She poked him. "Ugh. Lavender."   
  
"If I remember correctly, you were the one who set me up with her."   
  
"She liked you. And whenever she flirted with you, you didn't seem to mind."   
  
"I just tolerated it."   
  
She giggled. "What a tumultuous two weeks that was. Melodrama at it's finest."   
  
Harry nodded. He remembered the two weeks in sixth year quite well, but that didn't mean he hadn't been trying his hardest to forget.   
  
"I wish Ron were here," Hermione said softly.   
  
Their friend had been taken home as soon as they'd gotten back to Hogwarts. Molly Weasley had been there when Harry and Hermione had helped Ron into the Great Hall. He'd gotten the worst of their battle and had immediately collapsed. They had gotten an owl from him just that morning, saying that he was recovering and that he'd be fine for when he left for Egypt at the end of the following week. Molly, however, had forbid him from leaving the Burrow until that time.   
  
"I wish he were too. It'll be weird not having him around this summer," Harry added.   
  
Hermione looked at him, thinking that as much as she missed the third member of their trio, she was more than okay with it being just her and Harry. His green eyes met hers and she felt her pulse begin to quicken.   
  
"Hermione… I--" he said softly, his head moving closer to hers.   
  
"Harry! Hermione! There's lunch on the table!"   
  
He jumped back, looking at her startled face. "I'm starving."   
  
"Me too. Lunch sounds wonderful," she said, sitting up and smoothing nonexistent hairs away from her face.   
  
What had almost happened there? Hermione's mind raced as quickly as her heart. Was that almost a kiss? Was he going to kiss her? Did that mean--   
  
"Are you coming?"   
  
Her eyes widened briefly before she shook her head. "Yes, of course."   
  
They stood and he followed her from the room, going back downstairs to the kitchen.   
  


* * * * *

  
  
Hermione brushed her hair, pulling the brush through hurriedly. They were leaving for Hogwarts in the morning and the past three days had been nothing but awkward. Near-kisses, bumped hands and embarrassed looks after one had caught the other looking. Her mind couldn't get over what was happening between them. She had liked him for a long time but it hadn't been like this before the final battle. They had walked together around the lake countless times, given hugs, even kisses on New Year's Eve and there was never this awkwardness. What had changed? Her mind crawled over every detail, trying to figure it out. And then it came to her: Ron. He wasn't around now. He had been the reason why she had never told Harry how she felt. Ron liked her and she knew it. She loved him as a friend and had always questioned if she could break his heart like that. Could she now?   
  
It was different now. She loved Harry now. But then again, she supposed she always had.   
  
He stood in front of the mirror, raking his hands through his hair. Could he tell her?   
  
One more near-kiss and he'd explode.   
  
Annoyance tore through him as he pulled back the cover and climbed into bed. It'd be better when they were back at Hogwarts. He half-hoped. A part of him couldn't bear having to share her again. He wanted her, now more than he ever had.   
  


* * * * *

  
  
  
  
Hermione stood on the front steps at Hogwarts. Harry was by her side as the fifty children for the summer retreat steamed out of the horseless carriages. Each was carrying a small trunk, obviously shrunken by a parent. A few students struggled with large trunks. Hermione knew that these must be the muggle born students. She went to help them, but held herself back, deciding instead to just wait for them.   
  
They eventually reached the steps, a few stragglers had chased each other around the lawn and many of the students had stopped to talk excitedly to their friends. As the crowd reached them, the chatter quieted and they all looked expectantly at Harry and Hermione.   
  
"Good afternoon. I'm Harry and this is Hermione. We'd like to welcome you all. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your rooms," Harry smiled at the excited children and turned to walk into the school. Hermione smiled one last time at the group and followed him.   
  
He walked up the marble staircase, retracing the familiar route to the Gryffindor common room. When the reached the entrance to the tower, he nodded at Hermione who turned to the students.  
  
"Girls, you will be spending the next three weeks in what is usually Ravenclaw house. Boys, you will be in Gryffindor. Girls, I'll take you down, boys, follow Harry."  
  
Hermione motioned to the twenty or so girls. She had a parchment folded in her pocket that contained a list of all the girls in her dorm. She and Professor Sinistra, Melinda, were in charge of the twenty two girls staying at Hogwarts this summer. In addition to being a counsellor for the girls, Hermione would also be teaching a couple of the workshops during the retreat. She had taken the Transfiguration workshops, as well as the Exploration class. She would be taking the students on field trips around to Hogsmeade and the area surrounding Hogwarts.  
  
"Everyone settle down! I have the list right here!" Harry shouted over the boys' rising voices.  
  
Thirty underage boys were crowded around. Well not completely. Some of the younger ones were exploring the Gryffindor common room and the older ones were rallying together to pick their own rooms. Harry sighed, wondering where Professor Bancroft was. The young professor had been teaching Muggle Studies since their sixth year and he had jumped at the chance to help out during the summer.  
  
Suddenly, a small blast erupted near the portrait entrance and a tall, blond wizard strolled into the room. The boys immediately silenced, watching the towering wizard enter the room. Professor Hale Bancroft was a lean, powerful looking wizard with an air about him that both commanded attention while giving off a warm, welcoming feeling. Harry had immediately liked the man. He had met Hale during his sixth year, when he found out that Dumbledore had hired him for Muggle Studies and to help the Order in their fight against Lord Voldemort.  
  
Bancroft was a favourite among the students. His classes were popular and he had taken over Madame Hooch's job as Quidditch referee and flying instructor. He and Harry would be holding Quidditch clinics throughout the summer and Bancroft had also arranged a few muggle activities for the students. He was adept at muggle sports and had already planned for football instruction.  
  
"Professor Bancroft, why are we in Gryffindor tower? I'm a Slytherin," a rather greasy haired boy whined, looking very sour indeed.  
  
"This summer, you are neither Slytherin nor Hufflepuff, or for that matter, a member of any house. You are a Hogwarts student, as are the fellow students around you. This summer, you will room together, eat together, and participate in activities together. I believe Harry here has your room assignments, so listen up," Bancroft said, facing the group of boys.  
  
"Ladies, listen up," Melinda Sinistra commanded the girls, looking pointedly at the few that were still chattering.  
  
"I've got room assignments for you, but before I hand those out, I thought I'd give you all a basic rundown of everything this summer. We'll be waking you up six days a week at 8 am. You'll have two activities before lunch and two before dinner. After dinner, we'll have prearranged events or recreation time. Lights out is at 11 pm. Lunch is from 12:30 to 2:00 and dinner is from 6:00 to 7:30. On your room assignments is a schedule for the activities that we'll be offering and you're to pick which ones you want to go to. Professor Sinistra and I will be available to answer any questions for you. Any questions before I hand out the rooms?"  
  
No one answered and with a shrug, Hermione began handing out the slips of parchment that Professor Sinistra had handed her. The girls grasped at them eagerly, shrieking excitedly as they exchanged information with their friends and ran off towards the dorm.  
  
Sighing, Hermione settled into one of the squashy blue chairs perched by the cold fireplace. After Gryffindor, the Ravenclaw common room was her favourite. As Head Girl, she had visited all of the common rooms at one point or another. Hufflepuff was rather boring. It was located off a corridor on the third floor. The only particular thing about getting to Hufflepuff house was that one had to walk down a flight of stairs before going up three more flights. Slytherin was cold, dark and in the dungeons. Hermione liked Ravenclaw best because it smelled like the library. When she had been eleven years old, she had fully expected to be sorted into Ravenclaw. Maybe the hat had seen her adventures with Harry, or maybe it had just known all along that he would need her in the future.  
  
Her stomach fluttered at the thought of Harry, and as much as she tried to stop the blood from tingeing her cheeks, she couldn't as she began thinking about the week at her parents' house. The air had been tense around her and Harry. She sighed, turning her mind to any other subject.  
  
Harry closed the last dormitory door. He had been checking on the boys, making sure that they were all settled into their rooms and lights were out. It had been a long day and thankfully everyone was exhausted after dinner. Dinner in the Great Hall had been rather rowdy and Harry had enjoyed every minute of it. He had been seated at the teacher's table, with Hermione on one side and a boy named Derek Ackerly, who was in Ginny's year.  
  
The conversation between the teachers and students had been lively, with everyone discussing the upcoming summer. Harry had been surprised by the change in the teachers that were helping this summer. They were all much more relaxed and conversational, talking about students, past and present, and telling stories on one another.  
  
After dinner, Hermione had asked him if he wanted to walk down to the lake after lights out and he had readily agreed, anxious for time alone with her. He smiled to himself as he led the boys back to the dormitories, ignoring the fact that he was rushing them to get ready for bed.  
  
As soon as she had turned down the candles in the last room, Hermione hurried to her private quarters to grab a sweatshirt. She looked herself over in the mirror, tucking her curls behind her ears and smiling to herself. Deciding her appearance was acceptable, she walked out of Ravenclaw, heading towards the staircase that led up to Gryffindor.  
  
Harry was waiting for her and smiled as she approached. She grinned back, ignoring the butterflies, and followed him as he headed towards the entrance hall.  
  
They walked in quiet for awhile, tracing a path around the lake that had become familiar to them after several years of walking the same route. Hermione enjoyed the slow pace, taking in deep breaths of the summer air, treasuring the few extra weeks she would be spending at what had become her favourite place in the world.  
  
Sneaking a glance at her, he smiled to himself as he watched her smile softly. He had been thinking about their days at school, surprised that it was all over and could tell by the look on her face that she had been thinking along the same lines. He wondered vaguely to himself, trying to figure out when she had become his best friend. For the first three years or so that he had been at Hogwarts, Ron had been his very best friend. He had always trusted Hermione, and greatly enjoyed her company, but after fourth year, the balance of the trio had shifted slightly.  
  
When Ron had stopped talking to Harry in fourth year, along with most of the school, Hermione had jumped to his defence, offering an ear to listen and a comforting hug whenever he needed it. During fifth year, Ron had told Harry of his feelings for Hermione, and had set about acting upon them. Hermione, also having the slightest crush on Ron, had agreed to go out with. After a tumultuous two weeks, Hermione had ended it, citing that they were better as friends. Ron had gone along with it, but had confided in Harry that he still had feelings for her.  
  
Hermione had been quick to seek out Harry, telling him about what a mistake it had been to go out with Ron, and how she wished they could have just stayed best friends. Harry had inwardly sided with Hermione, longing for the days when it been the three of them, all equal friends and no strings attached.  
  
A twang of guilt reminded Harry that Ron still had feelings for their best friend. He had dated other girls throughout their remaining years at school, but it was obvious to Harry that Ron still wanted Hermione.  
  
"Are you scared?" Hermione asked suddenly.  
  
"Of what?" he responded absentmindedly.  
  
"Of the future. So much is going to change after this summer. I'll be off in America, Ron's already in Egypt, and you'll still be here. Do you think we'll all stay friends? Oh, that probably sounds stupid. How could we not be friends?"  
  
Harry shrugged in response. They had reached the edge of the lake and he settled into the grass, feeling the damp blades against his hands. Hermione sat next to him, pulling her knees up to her chest instead of stretching out as Harry had done. He shifted and reached a hand out to gently rub her back.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Like I said, I'm scared. What's it going to be like in America?"  
  
"Hermione, it's just America, it's not like you're going to Jupiter."  
  
"Ginny said that everyone in America talks loudly and wears cowboy hats."  
  
"I think Ginny was teasing you. Are you sure that's all that's bothering you? It's not liked you to get this worked up."  
  
"I don't know," she lied, not wishing to divulge that he'd been on her mind all day and that she wasn't sure how to handle it.  
  
He gave her a small smile and took her hand, squeezing her hand. The spark was undeniable and Hermione turned her gaze to Harry's eyes. Even in the darkness by the lake, she could still see his face redden and she felt the blood slowly creep into her own cheeks. He gave her a sheepish smile and withdrew his hand from hers. Hermione's heart flopped at the loss of contact and she mentally scolded herself. It's just Harry after all, she thought to herself, shaking her head.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why are you shaking your head?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing."  
  
He didn't answer her and looked back at the inky black water of the lake. The night was eerily quiet and he instantly felt the need to break the silence.  
  
"Remember, in fifth year, after we won the Quidditch Cup, and were having that party?"  
  
"I remember parts. That mulled mead was much stronger than George told me," Hermione answered, sounding a bit perturbed.  
  
Harry laughed a bit, also remembering the mulled mead that Fred and George had snuck in from Hogsmeade. They had called the party "Fred and George's Last Hurrah" and aptly so. It was the craziest celebration that Harry had ever remembered and there hadn't been one like it since.  
  
"I remember that you fell asleep sitting up and when Ron asked you if you were going to go to bed, you told him you would, but you couldn't, as you had no legs."  
  
"I never said that!" Hermione squealed, giggling.  
  
"Oh, yes you did. And then you asked him to check to make sure!"  
  
"I did not!"  
  
"You throttled when he said 'Yes, you do, and they're rather nice, I might add.'"  
  
"Now, that, I remember."  
  
They were both laughing and clutching their stomachs. Hermione took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm her laughter and the butterflies in her stomach. She smiled inwardly at the thought of spending the rest of the summer with Harry. The ease with which they talked and laughed together had allowed Hermione to grow to trust him very much.  
  
Sitting for awhile longer, the pair conversed and laughed, trading memories of their Hogwarts days. They talked of Professor Lupin coming back in their fifth year and how he had finally ended the "curse" on that job. Hermione giggled at stories from the Quidditch changing rooms and Harry guffawed as Hermione told him stories of Lavender and Parvati preparing for the various social events that had peppered their last few years at Hogwarts.  
  
"You mean they used to sit around with their hair in curlers and with green masks on? That's priceless! Aren't there charms they can use or something?"  
  
"Of course! I think they liked the primping though."  
  
Hermione giggled as she remembered how Lavender used to sleep with a face mask on and kept her hands and feet covered. Absentmindedly, she checked her watch.  
  
"Oh, Harry! It's nearly midnight. We should go back to the castle."  
  
He nodded, sobering as he stood up. He offered her a hand and she took it. After brushing herself off, they turned and headed back towards the castle.  
  
As they walked, Harry talked about the future. He talked about Dumbledore's plans.  
  
"He suspects that something is amiss within the Death Eaters. Says that his operatives in the circle have detected some rumblings among the higher ups. We aren't sure if it means that the group is splitting or if there's about to be some change of rank. For all we know, it could be some sort of diversion."  
  
"Harry, aren't you worried at all?"  
  
"Worried for what?"  
  
"Your life! What if something were to happen to you?"  
  
He shrugged. "So something happens to me."  
  
"How can you be so casual about it Harry?"  
  
He stopped and turned to face her. "Hermione, do you believe in destiny?"  
  
She shook her head. "I've always been taught that we're to make our own destinies."  
  
"I've always believed in destiny. That for some reason, we're put here. I believe that it is my destiny to fight evil."  
  
She couldn't help but smile. "That's a pretty important destiny, Harry."  
  
He shrugged again. "I guess so."  
  
She nodded and a slight smirk played across her lips. "I never saw destiny as an 'I'm hear to vanquish all evil' sort of thing."  
  
He looked a little hurt, but played it down. "What did you see it as?"  
  
"I guess when I hear the word destiny, it always makes me think of some grand Hollywood picture. Like Casablanca or Gone with the Wind. I always associated destiny with love."  
  
He grimaced. "Blech. Romantic movies."  
  
"What's wrong with romantic movies?"  
  
He pulled a face before sobering and widening his eyes. In one quick movement, he had scooped her up in her arms. Her alarmed look did not dissuade him.  
  
"Oh, Hermione! I love you to the deepest depths of my soul. My life--without you--is nothing!" He cried dramatically. In one final act of melodrama, he placed a wet, sloppy kiss on her lips.  
  
Hermione looked at him, completely startled, as he set her back on the ground. He gave her a big, boyish grin. Unable to withhold any longer, she burst out laughing.  
  
"That, my dear, is my problem with romantic movies. They're too dramatic. It never happens like that in real life."   
  
She stopped laughing long enough to gasp out a reply. "Oh it doesn't, does it?"  
  
"Not unless you're Ron, in which case, every day is filled to the brim with melodrama."  
  
Another round of giggles. "Oh, Harry, be nice!"  
  
"I'm plenty nice. I'm Mr. Nice. I'm the Official Nice Guy."  
  
She playfully swatted at his arm as they continued walking towards the castle. Occasionally, Harry would look towards her and smile, causing her to either laugh again or shake her head at him. Their progression was slow, neither of them really wanting to go back in, but both knowing they should.  
  
Her breath caught in her throat every time their hands collided. After about the twentieth collision, Harry gently took her hand. Hermione nearly thanked him for saving her consciousness, but decided to squeeze his hand instead.  
  
They sneaked quietly through the castle, still feeling as if they were breaking school rules. When they reached the tower, Harry turned to face her again.  
  
"Thanks for inviting me for a walk, Herm."  
  
"Let's make it a habit, ok?"  
  
"You got it," he said as he gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning, bright and early!"  
  
"Joy! Goodnight."  
  
She smiled at him one last time before trudging down the stairs and tiptoeing quietly to her room. Now that she wasn't with Harry, she realized just how exhausted she was and promptly fell onto her bed when she entered her room. Sighing, she grinned to herself before getting up to change into her nightclothes.  
  
Harry shut the door to his room and leaned against it. Sighing, he closed his eyes and thought about being out by the lake with Hermione. His thoughts trailed to the night when he'd first realized his feelings for her.  
  
During their seventh year, they had gone to the Burrow over the Christmas Holidays. Molly Weasley had insisted that he and Hermione join their family, though he largely suspected it was some ploy to gain some headway on the road to what Harry had privately called One Big Weasley Family-dom. One of the nights that they were there, the entire family was out save Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione. It was Ginny who had suggested that they play a board game. Seeing no reason to not oblige, everyone quickly agreed.  
  
Ginny had rummaged through her father's games, coming across a muggle version of Scrabble. Hermione had been phenomenal and surprisingly, Ron had held his ground fairly well. Harry greatly remembered everything about that night. There had been something about Hermione. It was in her smile, her laugh, and the way she tilted her head to the side while contemplating a word. Whatever it was that night, Harry had fallen hard for her. Ever since, he had been mentally debating with himself whether he wanted to make a move or not, and the only thing preventing him was Ron.  
  
Sighing again, Harry walked to his trunk and pulled out a pair of pyjama bottoms. He felt sure now that she felt something for him. He loved her, he had realised that tonight. Everything about her was everything he'd ever wanted. She was smart and beautiful and funny and...  
  
He stood up suddenly, yanking his t-shirt back over his head. He couldn't stand it anymore.   
  


* * * * *

  
  
Hermione jolted at the loud knock. Who would be at her door this time of night? Figuring it was just the girls playing tricks, she set her book down and slid into her slippers before walking across the room. She unlocked the door and opened it. "Harry? Is everything alright?"  
  
He closed the short distance between them and looked at her, studying for a brief moment the confused look on her face. "Yes, Hermione, everything is finally alright." Her eyebrows knit together in the brief second before his lips were pressed against hers.  
  
He felt no resistance, but instead, felt her kiss back. Her lips, under his, parting slightly. He followed her lead and nearly gasped when he felt her tongue slide into his mouth. Her arms tightened around his neck and he pulled her closer, fisting his hands in her hair.  
  
"I love you, Hermione, I really do," he said, pulling away from her just enough to speak.   
  
"Really?" she answered, her breath mingling with his.  
  
"Really."   
  
"I love you too."   
  


* * *

Thanks to Ian for both beta-reading and for adding parts to this chapter. :) Please, read and review.   


* * *

For faster updates, cookies and deleted scenes, please join Power of Three (). _


End file.
